Stories of 500-pound feral pigs in Michigan and 40 other states multiplying, chasing people, attacking vehicles and tearing up property are enough to give people nightmares.

Already this year, the state has declared open season on the hairy, tusked critters, allowing any licensed hunter or property owner to shoot them on sight.

This week, it might go a step further.

At a meeting Thursday, the chief of the state Department of Natural Resources and Environment is poised to sign an order declaring the pigs an invasive species, making it illegal to raise or possess them.

That will please the $300 million commercial hog industry, which fears the spread of diseases long eradicated in the state.

But the move will not sit well with the game farming and hunting-preserve industry, which invests in Russian boar or other exotic swine so hunters can prowl fenced land to bag a trophy.

Hunting facilities are regulated for some animals, but pigs are not covered in those rules.
Ron McKendrick said a ban would be trouble for his Renegade Ranch, a 300-acre preserve in Cheboygan that offers hunts of buffalo, elk and deer as well as wild boar.

“And when I’m out of business, a lot of other people are going to hurt here,” he said. “The place has been here almost 30 years.

“If they stop everybody with the hogs and hog hunting, you’re going to throw out 95 percent of the hunting preserves in Michigan.”

Russ Mason, DNRE wildlife chief, said the invasive-species order, if signed, is designed to spur the Legislature to create effective and funded regulations to control the game farms and hunting preserves from which the feral pigs are widely believed to have escaped.

“What’s going on here is: Clean it up; get it right, or they’re invasive,” Mason said. “The population of feral pigs in the state is growing.”

State estimates put the population between 3,000 and 5,000.

But regulations without funding for enforcement would be pointless, Mason said.
“The state has no appetite for unfunded mandates,” he said. “But pigs represent a significant disease and ecosystem threat.

“Should they become established, there will be millions and millions of dollars of unfunded liability in the state of Michigan, as there is in Texas and other states.

“From an economic point of view, it makes good sense to go forward with this.”

The Michigan Pork Producers Association is taking a firm stand on the issue, supporting an outright ban. Executive Vice President Sam Hines said the state has no money to enforce any regulations. The cost of enforcement has been estimated at almost $700,000 by a work group representing state agencies and environmental and farming groups. It is drafting recommended regulations.

“We just don’t see that there are resources there to do that,” Hines said. “Beyond that, we just feel that it might have mixed success, at best. It’s probably something that never should have been allowed to start initially, but now we’ve got them, we really need to shut off the faucet.”

A ban doesn’t totally sit well with Allegan County hog farmer Chuck Brink.

“It’s a free country,” he said. “You should be able to do what you want.”

But he has a clear memory of battling pseudorabies. While the airborne disease does not affect humans, it can devastate a hog operation, attacking reproductive abilities and overall health.

Through hard work and no small amount of money, the disease was eradicated in Michigan in 2000, Brink said. But now that status is threatened as the highly contagious disease has been confirmed in some feral swine killed in the state.

“I remember it well,” Brink said. “If that would come back, it would be terrible. And there’s nothing left holding this state together except agriculture.”

The Michigan Farm Bureau, holding its annual meeting in Grand Rapids last week, approved a policy supporting the regulations proposed by the work group. They include strict fencing rules, testing and inspection mandates, a moratorium on new operations and a quarantine on existing ones until all new requirements are met.

“It’s a personal, private property issue,” said Ernie Birchmeier, livestock and dairy specialist for the Farm Bureau. “If you are operating within the law, you ought to have the opportunity to run your business as you see fit.

Domestic hogs that escape become feral just like Russian boars, he said.

Scott Turner, owner of Deer Tracks Ranch in Kalkaska County, said he fears game preserves and farms might bear the full cost of any new regulations, estimated at $11,000 to $18,000 annually per operation.

“That’s ridiculous,” said Turner, adding he already voluntarily complies with state testing and uses 10-foot fences that also are buried two feet into the ground.

He doesn’t think a quarantine is necessary, either.

“Any issue that’s been involved with the Russian boar has been in the past,” he said. “Nothing has been recent once they started with the testing.”

Some see the moves toward regulations or a ban as more anti-hunting prejudice designed to hurt the state’s $60 million game ranch industry.

Doug Miller, owner of Thunder Hills Ranch near Jackson, said the number of ranches is down to 445 this year, compared to 815 in 2004.

Pig hunts are the bread and butter of the smaller game ranches because they provide an affordable entry into the world of private hunting, he said. Groups can split the cost of a $525 hog hunt and come away with hundreds of pounds of meat.

“Everyone can afford to do that, plus they get the meat,” Miller said. “My deer hunts start at $2,000 and go to $10,000.”